


I'll Save You

by houfukuseisaku



Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: (sorry gammon ily), Gen, also Nemesis Has A Gun so. you know, background Nemesis/Nyoze, brotherly love but gammon fucks it up. as usual, not the focus but certainly important to the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 07:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21295712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houfukuseisaku/pseuds/houfukuseisaku
Summary: Nyoze,If you’re reading this, that means that I’ve finally succeeded.
Relationships: Gammon Octo & Nyoze Octo
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	I'll Save You

**Author's Note:**

> context: octobros but like. if they were in kagepro
> 
> ec discord inspired me to write this. ec discord inspires me to write many horrible things, honestly.
> 
> content warning: the usual canon wrath arc things. nemesis has a gun and uses it. gammon also has a gun and also uses it. there's one part that describes how nyoze gets shot rather graphically, so if that is a no-go just skip the sentence that starts with "As close as you are to his position,". happy reading! and by happy i mean im so fucking sorry as usual --feya "houfuku" airforce

You’re not letting him die.

The memory is a fleeting thing, a transient bubble floating just out of your reach. Not that you would dare touch it anyway, for fear of it popping and dispersing into nothing. To forget such a thing would be—

“Brother,” you find yourself saying, a note of desperation lilting your words, “don’t go on the date.”

He raises his eyebrows, surprised. You’ve never asked anything of him, and now this?

“Please.”

You don’t want him to die.

Nyoze meets your eyes for a long moment, before shrugging and heaving out a sigh.

“If you insist.”

Whatever guilt you feel at his downturned tone, is far outweighed by the relief of the weight off your shoulders.

You smile.

“And hey, the next time you ask her out,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood, “why not bring me along? I’d love to be the third wheel, ahaha.”

That gets a snicker out of him; he even reaches over to give your hair a playful ruffle. Gods, how you’ve missed him.

* * *

He dies anyway.

That girl, Nemesis, she snuck into his apartment. Shot him in his sleep. Said she was blinded by fury when he didn’t show up.

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth when you read his letter. The same thing as always. Don’t blame her, don’t blame her, don’t blame that daughter of evil. She’s as much a victim of circumstance as he was.

If only.

If only Nyoze knew, how right and wrong he was.

* * *

You’re not letting him die.

“Brother,” you find yourself saying, harsher than intended, “we’re going to Jakoku. Right now.”

“What? Why?” He’s utterly confused. “Why now, I mean? Sure, we can go, but. Can’t it wait until tomorrow, at least?”

He doesn’t even question the why of it? Oh, Nyoze, you trusting fool. You shake your head, running your fingers up and down your arm.

“I can’t explain, but it’s important that we leave. Please.”

You don’t want him to die.

Nyoze meets your eyes for a long moment, before shrugging and heaving out a sigh.

“If you insist.”

Guilt mixes with dread in your gut, but you force yourself to smile. For his sake, if nothing else.

“Thank you,” you murmur, “I promise, it’ll all make sense. Trust me.”

“You know I always do, Gammon.”

He reaches over to pat you on the shoulder, and you lean a little into his touch. Gods, you can’t bear to lose him.

* * *

But lose him you do.

That girl, Nemesis, she unleashed her pet ziz tiama upon the ship you boarded. How did she even know of your plan? Is it Pere Noel? It must be. Someone must’ve seen the two of you at the docks. Gallerian himself, maybe.

And of course the gods saw fit to take him but not you, leaving you adrift on flotsam until the coastal guard arrives. You leave the scene before anyone can ask any questions, returning to the apartment that’s quieter than ever before.

Bile rises in your throat when you read his letter. The same thing as always. Don’t blame her, don’t blame her, don’t blame that daughter of evil. She’s as much a victim of circumstance as he was.

You crush the letter in your hands once you’ve finished reading it.

Even in death, your brother’s words infuriate you.

* * *

You’re not letting him die.

You don’t mention a word to him. Instead, you just slip a little something into his morning coffee, nod along when he yawns, gesture to the couch when his eyelids start to droop.

“Why not take a nap, brother?” You suggest, nudging him over. “Just a short break. You earned it.”

“I don’t want to miss my date,” he sleepily whines, in that irritatingly adorable way of his.

“I’ll wake you up, no worries.”

You don’t want him to die.

Nyoze meets your eyes for a long moment, before shrugging and heaving out a sigh.

“Promise?”

You’d laugh at the way he’s holding out his pinky finger, but the look on his face is one of utter seriousness.

“I promise. Now, go to sleep.”

You link pinkies with him and watch as his eyelids flutter shut. Gods, you hope your plan succeeds.

* * *

But still you fail.

You go on the date with Nemesis in his stead, dressed in your brother’s clothes and imitating him as best you can. But she treats you coldly, making you wonder how Nyoze can fall in love with such an evil girl.

She ditches you halfway through. Oh well. You feel more than a little guilty for ruining Nyoze’s relationship with her. But better safe than sorry, right?

…You come home to your brother, smothered to death in his slumber. The sound of Nemesis’s sobs and her footsteps fading into the distance echoes in your ears.

How funny.

Even in death, your brother’s peaceful face, as if he’s only asleep, mocks you.

This time, you don’t even bother opening his letter. You burn it to ashes over a candleflame.

* * *

You’re not letting him die.

You leave the apartment before sunrise. You make your way to the fateful location, ignoring the eyes weighing on your back. You find the perfect place to hide, settle in, and _wait_.

The seconds tick by, ever so slow. You lick your chapped lips, pull your coat tighter around you to ward off the winter cold.

The weight of the gun in the holster by your hip is a comforting one, the proof of your plan and determination.

You don’t want him to die.

…There they are.

There he is.

There _she_ is.

You raise your gun and take aim.

One bullet, one shot, right through her head, right between her eyes.

A quick death, far more merciful than anything she deserves.

You take aim and pull the trigger.

“I’m sorry—”

The gun in her hands falls to the ground at the exact same moment Nyoze’s head turns and his eyes meet yours.

“Gammon…?” He chokes out, betrayed, hurt, no, _devastated_. “How could you?!”

You stumble out of the shadows and stagger towards him. He doesn’t move, cradling Nemesis’s corpse in his lap.

Your cheeks hurt. Are you smiling? You must be. What kind of terrifying expression are you wearing right now, you wonder.

“I did it.” You mumble, delirious with glee. “I saved you.”

He says nothing. He only looks at you with those pitiful, pain-filled eyes of his. Gods, how you want to tear them out from his skull, swallow them whole.

Nyoze is alive.

Nemesis is dead.

But not really.

As close as you are to his position, you get a front-row seat to witnessing your brother’s brains being blown out of his skull, the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his head.

His lifeless body topples over, contorting painfully over Nemesis as her eyes meet yours, her gun trembling in her grip.

You stare at her, your face frozen in an unmoving smile.

She stares at you, fresh tear tracks streaking down her cheeks. Her trembling increases in intensity, until she’s barely able to keep her aim steady. Her gun falls to the ground as she buries her face in her hands, sobbing. Her temple is stained with fresh blood.

The weight of the gun in your hands is a discomforting one, the proof of yet another failed plan and yet another death you couldn’t prevent.

The urge to kill her right then and there is almost unbearable.

But of course you can’t. You need her alive, need the rest of the script to be followed to the letter, need the story of evil to come to an end so you can reset and try again and again and _again_—

You walk away, and the snow continues to fall.

* * *

You shoot his letter with the rest of the bullets in your gun.

One, two, three, four, five.

Gods, you hate him.

You hate that he always loves her, and you hate she always kills him, and you hate that still you can’t let go, after everything.

Despite everything.

Damn it.

_Damn it all._

* * *

You’ve made your choice long ago.

You’re not letting him die.

The memory is a fleeting thing, a transient bubble floating just out of your reach. Not that you would dare touch it anyway, for fear of it popping and dispersing into nothing. To forget such a thing would be—

“Brother,” you find yourself saying, tired and weary, “have fun on your date.”

He furrows his eyebrows, worried. Your words and your expression are two contradictory things.

“Gammon…?”

You don’t want him to die.

You meet his eyes for a long moment, before shrugging and heaving out a sigh.

“Nothing. I’m just—it’s nothing.”

Guilt eats at you, along with his concern. But you’ve made your choice, and you’re determined to see it to the end.

“Why not take a nap, brother?” He suggests, trying to lighten the mood. “Just a short break. You look like you haven’t slept in forever.”

He even reaches over to give your hair a playful ruffle. Gods, how you’ll miss him.

“Okay. See you later, Nyoze.”

You smile.

* * *

The weight of the gun in your hands is a comforting one.

It’s empty, now. You only needed one bullet after all.

“Gammon…?”

Your eyes meet his. Nemesis’s shocked gasp echoes in your ears, the pieces of her shattered revolver falling to the ground in your peripheral vision.

Your cheeks hurt. Are you smiling? You must be. What kind of terrifying expression are you wearing right now, you wonder.

“I did it,” you manage to choke out, even as blood fills your lungs, “I saved you.”

The last thing you see before darkness takes you—

Is the grim determination that flashes in Nyoze’s eyes.

* * *

_Nyoze,_

_If you’re reading this, that means that I’ve finally succeeded._

_Your dead face will hurt me no more._

_With this death, it’s finally my win._

_Don’t waste your time mourning me. Instead, I want you to live on._

_Your brother,_

_Gammon_

* * *

The letter in your hand falls victim to your tears, the inked words bleeding into each other and turning into an unreadable mess.

“I failed this time, too…”

* * *

You’re not letting him die.

The memory is a fleeting thing, a transient bubble floating just out of your reach. Not that you would dare touch it anyway, for fear of it popping and dispersing into nothing. To forget such a thing would be—

“Brother,” he says, a note of surprise lilting his words, “are you sure you want me to accompany you on your date?”

You nod your head, smiling. He’s never denied you anything, so far.

“Please.”

You don’t want him to die.

Gammon meets your eyes for a long moment, before shrugging and heaving out a sigh.

“If you insist.”

Whatever guilt you feel at his exasperated tone, is far outweighed by the relief of the weight off your shoulders.

You smile.

“And hey, the next time I ask her out,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood, “I promise not to bring you along. I don’t want you stealing her away from me, ahaha.”

That gets a snort of laughter out of him; you reach over to give his hair a playful ruffle, and fondness warms your heart as he leans into your touch. Gods, how you’ve missed him.

This time, you’ll save him for sure.


End file.
